the sound of my heart
by cyclothimic
Summary: "You're a lawyer? / "I made partner yesterday." / "And you're sitting here eating cereal?" l or Lexa temporarily moves into Raven's place and Clarke becomes a hot mess when confronted with the goddess staying in her best friend's apartment.


**i've recently found disposition to writing fluff goodness what is happening to me**

**now, read, ponder, and enjoy!**

* * *

_You're picture perfect blue;_

_Sunbathing on the moon;_

_Stars shining as your bones illuminate._

_-Charli XCX, Boom Clap_

* * *

People always said follow your passion. Do what you love. You will only be able to appreciate life and what you do if it is what you truly enjoy.

And most of the time, Clarke believed them. Her whole life, she had had two passions: drawing and tailing her mother around in the hospital. She could have gone either way for a career; she suspected they would have both brought her fulfillment. But there was something about the smell of antiseptics on the hospital walls and the relentless beeps of various machines informing the staff of the patients' livelihoods that got her to submit an application for Johns Hopkins.

She studied. She practiced. She did her internship. She did her residency. And now she had a fellowship in trauma at Arc General. Mostly, Clarke enjoyed it. She loved the unexpected cases that come rolling in gurneys with the most random symptoms and unlikely indicators. There was a thrill to it that she couldn't find with picking up a brush and drawing out lines on a canvas.

Well, that was mostly, anyway. Some days, she just thought those people were liars.

Today was one of those days. A patient puked on her. A lunatic escaped from the mental ward, and it turned out he was an apprehended serial killer. The girl manning her favorite coffee cart had to call out sick today, and the boy who replaced her couldn't tell black from white. And to add cherry on top of this mountain of bull-fuckery, she found out that her car had a flat just when she had clocked out and was ready to head home for at least two pints of ice-cream and a whole season of Friends.

So instead of going home, Clarke went to closest liquor store and grabbed a six-pack from the fridge, then she got an Uber to her best friend's apartment building. The doorman had gotten so used to her that he just allowed entry with a friendly smile and went back to his game of some such or another on Facebook – Edward was probably the only person on earth who still played games on Facebook.

She waited for ten long seconds after pressing the doorbell, and was about to press again when the door swung open, revealing a barely familiar woman standing there, who was staring back at Clarke like the blonde seemed familiar as well.

And as exhausted as the doctor had become from this entire day of things she would very much like to forget, the exhaustion hadn't set in so much for her to lose her appreciation for beautiful things. This, right here, standing right before her, in a pair of sinfully tiny shorts and a grey hoodie over a yellow tank top, was inarguably the most beautiful _anything _that Clarke had ever laid eyes on.

"Oh, hey, Clarke!" Raven greeted from behind the stranger, opening the door wider to allow space for herself. "I didn't know you're coming by today."

Clarke blinked a few times and had to practically force herself to look away from the green-eyed menagerie still staring at her strangely from next to Raven. "Uh, yeah, I just…had a pretty bad day today and I want to –" She cut herself off and lifted the six-pack instead. "But I see you have company so I think I'll just…"

"Oh, bullshit," Raven waved her off and reached out to snag the package. "Lexa, this is Clarke. Clarke, this is Lexa, Anya's sister."

They shook hands and Clarke had to actively ignore the calluses she felt on the brunette's palms because that was kind of oddly _hot _in a way that the blonde had yet to comprehend. Since when were calluses _hot_? But then Lexa nodded at her with a stiff smile and slithered back into the apartment and then closed the door of the guestroom behind her.

"Lexa's place has shitty plumbing and basically, her ceiling pretty much collapsed in her living room. She needs a place to stay while they're fixing it up, so I'm letting her take my guestroom for the moment," Raven explained halfheartedly as they entered her apartment. "She's kind of a milder version of her sister, but she's nice, I promise."

Said brunette was pretty much a stranger. Clarke was halfway certain that she had _never _met Lexa in her life before, and yet, there was something about the woman that gave Clarke a sense of familiarity. Like she had seen her somewhere. Like that beautiful face had always been wandering in the back of her mind, immunizing her to other beauties.

She sat by the island as she tried to contemplate why Lexa was so familiar. Anya had mentioned a sister once or twice, but Clarke had never met this sister, especially not when Anya was always flying all over the world, so much so that Raven's guestroom was basically Anya's lodging whenever she was around. But that wasn't it.

Lexa. Lexa. Lexa. Lexa. _Lexa_.

Holy shit. Clarke straightened on her stool, eyes wide, and covered her mouth with her hand, as she recalled as to _how_ and _why _Lexa was so familiar.

"Clarke, you alright?"

Clarke snapped out of her reverie, snapping herself away from the disco ball and the purple hues and the thumps of music in her head. Shakily, she reached out for the beer that Raven had opened for her and nodded in a veiled confirmation. There was no way she was letting Raven know about this; the woman would never let it go.

* * *

The second time she saw Lexa, she was hungover and her body ached everywhere and she just wanted the blender to just stop being a blender. She released an angry groan, resembling a dinosaur about to be pummeled by a meteorite, and pulled the wool blanket over her head in a vain attempt to muffle the sound of the blender still _going_.

Yeah, it was no use. She released another groan, louder and more animalistic – the meteorite was right there and the dinosaur could go nowhere but cry. And that seemed to work, because the blender stopped doing the thing, and all was nice and peaceful and so, _so _quiet.

Clarke was about to fall asleep when a soft thump sounded on the coffee table and a gentle hand patted her knee. She sighed and slowly lowered the blanket. The sun wasn't there, for some reason, though an inner part of herself fully acknowledged that it was at least already morning. She allowed her eyes to adjust for a moment, the pain lancing through her head was no joke once she gained a clear vision, which quickly subsided when she saw the goddess standing in front of her.

Hair tied up in a neat ponytail, wearing plain white tank top that had sweated through enough for the sports bra to be visible, and a pair of tight running pants, Lexa Woods stood by the couch with an amused smile on her face, _sweaty and sexy and everything that Clarke had ever fantasized about a hot girl. _Yeah okay, a sweaty Lexa was the cure for a hangover, apparently.

"Good morning, Clarke," Lexa greeted. And okay, she even had a sexy voice – everything was so unfair, good god. "I see you girls had a lot of fun last night." She gestured at the armchair, across which sprawled a very ungraceful Octavia who was quietly snoring with her mouth hanging wide open. "I made you Anya's special hangover blend. There's Tylenol on the counter as well."

"Oh god, not Anya's blend," Clarke slurred, staring at three glasses of aforementioned orange-colored blend sitting on coffee table.

The brunette chuckled. "Yes, well, it works wonders, as I'm sure you know." Then she reached behind her to pull her ponytail free, and honestly, Clarke thought it was too early for this kind of stimulation. "I have to go to work. Sorry about the noise, by the way." Lexa had the audacity to wink before she sauntered off to the room that had become her temporary lodging.

If anyone asked, Clarke definitely _did not _keep her eyes glued onto the brunette's ass as she walked away. When she finally gathered the strength to sit upright and drink the disgusting mix of hangover cure that worked every time, she realized that the sun was nowhere to be seen because the blinds had been blissfully drawn closed.

They were definitely not last night when she, Octavia, and Raven had come bumbling in like the absolute drunk fools they were. Suddenly, the orange mix didn't taste as bitter as it had just two seconds ago.

* * *

"Is that my Fruit Loops?"

Lexa blinked from where she was sat on the couch, a spoon filled with Fruit Loops bits and milk paused over the bowl. In front of her, the television was airing reruns of The Nanny.

The blonde stared at her for a moment, unable to really reconcile this girl in a baggy hoodie and a pair of tattered sweatpants with her hair up in a messy bun with the girl that she had – yeah, she was _not _going there. The point was, "You're eating my Fruit Loops."

"It was in the cabinet."

"Yeah, I put it there."

The brunette narrowed her eyes a little. Clarke tried not to be affected by that, but it was a failed attempt, considering the jolt of heat that shot down her nerves at the sight of it. God, she really needed to pull herself together, because Lexa obviously didn't remember that they had met long before she had even temporarily moved into Raven's place.

And then Lexa had the audacity to cock a brow, which, _fuck_, and fed herself the spoonful of cereal. Then she dug out another spoonful and fed herself more. "It was in the cabinet. Raven said I could help myself to anything except her whiskey and ice-cream. All is fair play."

"_Was_?"

"Oh yeah, I cleared it out."

Clarke was of half the heart to yell at the brunette. But then she recalled three days ago, when she had woken up to a kind woman who had spared fifteen minutes to blend the hangover cure of the devil and draw the blinds. She recalled the gentleness infused in all those actions, the softness that Lexa had operated herself to not disturb the three _very _hungover women crowded in the apartment.

She sighed and plopped down on the couch next to Lexa. "Fine. Consider us even for what you did for us that day."

"You're so kind."

Clarke would huff, but this was more adorable than she could handle. Lexa Woods, absolutely uncaring for her outlook but still managing to look like the most beautiful woman in the room, watching _The Nanny _of all things, eating coveted Fruit Loops that Clarke had left behind for the occasional sleepover. The universe was so unfair.

The last time they had met, it was an indelicate situation. Indelicate and rushed and yet, perhaps the most electrifying experience that Clarke had ever had. She didn't even get to learn Lexa's name, much less anything else about her. She watched as Lexa watched Fran Fine laughed that laugh of hers and Mr. Sheffield stared at her adoringly.

Now was a good time as any, she thought.

"How'd you know Raven?" she asked as the credits started rolling and Lexa had placed the now empty bowl on the coffee table.

"Bellamy."

Clarke raised her brows in surprise. Raven's boyfriend worked as an in-house investigator for a law firm uptown. His work was so good that other firms had tried to poach him, but the benefits at his current firm were too good for him to ever consider leaving. He also claimed that he met Raven through that firm, so there was sentimental value to it.

Wait a minute, if Lexa knew Raven through Bellamy…"You're a lawyer?"

Lexa hummed and nodded in confirmation. "I made partner just yesterday."

Clarke gulped and resisted from hanging her head back and releasing a groan of frustration at the new information. "And you're sitting here eating cereal?"

"Hey, I will have you know that Fran Fine is a great form of celebration!" Lexa protested with a laugh. Clarke wanted to hear more of it. "Plus, we already celebrated last night. They gave me a day off today for all the work I've done that got me the partnership. You're not getting me out of this apartment unless someone died."

Throughout the evening, Clarke spent it learning a lot of things about this woman. The menial things. The intriguing things. The things that made Lexa _Lexa_, and Clarke gobbled it up like a starving goblin, absolutely unhinged and never satisfied.

Lexa's guilty pleasure was cereal and Fran Fine. She ran six days a week, allowing herself Saturdays off to be the most useless person ever. She once scarred herself so badly on a loose tile in the pool that it left her a five-inch long scar at the back of her thigh. She was the prosecutor who managed to land a thirty-year sentence on that pedophile who had assaulted and killed no less than ten young boys and girls five years ago – the very case that had propelled Lexa's career in righteous criminal law. She only became a lawyer because she realized that Wonder Woman was an unrealistic occupation, though she certainly wouldn't mind being born on an island of beautiful women.

She had enjoyed talking to Lexa so much that she forgot about her plans with Raven after the woman had managed to crawl out of her bedroom with Bellamy in tow. And when it was time for them to take off and meet up with Octavia, Clarke found herself unwilling and reluctant. But it was okay, because she walked out of the door with Lexa's number.

* * *

Raven, Octavia, and she were hanging by the island, chomping on the Latina's precious ice-cream and catching each other up on their week, when the voice of someone unabashedly jamming out to Beyoncé echoed from the bathroom. Clarke stared at the bathroom door, partly amused and partly impressed, because Lexa sounded _really good_.

"Yeah, she does that," Raven offered with a shrug. "Speaking of which, when are you going to hump her sexy ass?"

Clarke blinked, glancing at Octavia to find her staring at her as well. "What are you talking about?"

"You have the hots for Lexa," Octavia offered, raising her brows challengingly. "You've been making sex eyes at her for like the past week. You need to get on that."

"There are – what? You're delusional. There are no sex eyes. No eyes whatsoever. I am not – I am cold. Very cold. Turn down the AC. It's cold," Clarke stammered.

Raven was clearly about to retort, but Beyoncé stopped and the shower shut off. Octavia narrowed her eyes at Clarke while Raven widened hers. The bathroom door opened and out came Lexa _dripping wet _in a fucking _towel_, and the doctor honestly just wanted Raven to shove the knife she had been using to cut the apples to cut _her_.

"Hey, Clarke, Octavia," Lexa greeted. "Leave some apple for me," she added, unfazed by her form of half nudity, and headed into her room.

Clarke could only stare after her, even once the door had shut behind her. Clarke wanted to see more. More of those legs. Tug her fingers through those gorgeous locks. Feast her eyes upon the very unfairness of Lexa Woods as a person. Distant memories were distant memories – two years could be a very long time, especially when she had been so drunk out of her mind that night.

Though definitely not too drunk to entirely forget.

It was entirely too memorable. That night when she found out that she had passed her boards and received official certification to be an actual doctor – with that certification, she was Dr. Clarke Griffin, MD. Her friends had dragged her out to the club to celebrate her success. And she had already downed three shots of tequila, three shots of whiskey, and a bottle of beer, almost three sheets to the wind, when she locked eyes with distinctly azure green eyes that shouldn't be so fucking stark in the darkness of the club.

It may seem impossible, but Clarke had definitely gotten all too wet by just that electrifying look alone. And through some miracle, she met those eyes again thirty minutes later when she stumbled into the washroom, where the brunette was just washing her hands. They had shared intense eye contact for a little more than two minutes, then Clarke found herself stumbling back into a random stall with the brunette crowding into her, kissing the daylights out of her, hands wandering around and touching the right places.

"Lexa," the brunette managed to whisper into her neck before sucking a hickey into her skin.

Clarke, at that point, had become too absorbed in the experience to offer a proper reply other than a drawn out moan.

No orgasm after that could compare to the five that Lexa had given her that night in just forty-five minutes. But it had been one-night thing. When they were done, Lexa offered a prolonged kiss, winked at the blonde, and swaggered out the door with her jeans unzipped, as if nothing had happened. From then on, Clarke figured she probably had been a little too regretful about not snagging the girl's number that she decided to shove the memory into the very back of the mind.

That was, until she saw Lexa answering Raven's door.

Clarke didn't have to look at her friends to know that Raven and Octavia were carrying the smuggest of looks. She definitely was not subtle in her ogling. There was still no way that she would tell them about what happened.

"Okay, yeah, maybe there are some sex eyes," she conceded.

* * *

Clarke's feet carried up the sidewalk, and she had gotten quite used to this area that she could have walked anywhere with her eyes closed; hence she was vehemently typing out a passive aggressive email to a colleague in Peds about _how _Mrs. Hunnigan was definitely her patient and he could shove his nosey head out of _her _department, thank you very much. He could have Mrs. Hunnigan once the baby was born.

She had just finished typing out a bitter 'with regards' when she found herself knocking into a huge barrier that had _definitely _never been on this sidewalk before – so huge and strong that she yelped and stumbled back and would have fallen ungracefully on her ass if not for quick slender hands catching her elbows and pulling her back to her feet. Her phone clattered on the ground during the debacle and she helped in rebalancing herself by placing her hands on the chest of the person who had pulled her back.

"They usually ask me out to dinner first."

She blinked rapidly at the familiar voice and looked up from the Snow White cartoon on the white shirt to see a pair of mischievous green eyes staring back at her. Heaving a gasp, Clarke hurried backwards and bent down to pick up her phone, determined to meet those green eyes for...maybe the next ten years of her life.

She'd lapsed in remembering for the last two years; what was another ten years?

Her determination had her eyes wandering everywhere; from the dollar store on the opposite of the street to the large building where Raven worked and then the car puttering by the sidewalk with the trunk open and its inside filled with two boxes. Wait, she remembered this car.

This time, she voluntarily turned to Lexa, who was still grinning at Clarke's lame efforts. The blonde had suddenly lost all sense of embarrassment, replaced by confusion and a total lack of empathy for the lawyer's mirth.

"Uh, what's this?" She gestured at the trunk of Lexa's car.

Lexa glanced back and a look of realization dawned upon her face. "Oh yeah, I'm – they fixed the plumbing at my place. Finally," she added with a sheepish smile. "I figured it's time I get out of Raven's hair."

"Right."

"Plus, I really do miss my actual bed."

"Right."

"And I think Raven's getting sick of my candles."

"Right."

"But I'll be staying for dinner, though. Bellamy's really good at mashed potatoes, for some reason."

"Right."

"Clarke?" The doctor's vision snapped into focus at the sound of her name being iterated by the brunette in front of her – in that voice of hers that always lilted in such a special way that Clarke always felt shivers; this time was no exception. Lexa ducked her head a little to lock gazes with her. "You okay?" she inquired with a frown.

She looked at Lexa and forced herself to not look at the two boxes of the belongings Lexa had collected over the last two weeks of staying at Raven's. She thought about what these two boxes in this car implied.

There would no more walking into Raven's apartment and hearing some of the latest hits being belted out unashamedly in the bathroom. Or smelling lavender or fresh cut roses wafted from Lexa's variety of candles. She wouldn't get to see the couch that she usually slept on being occupied by a certain bedraggled lawyer who just wanted to relax with Fran Fine and stolen cereal. But the worst was that she wouldn't get to see Lexa on the regular anymore, in any form possible, be it in her jogging gear or formal office wear or her pajamas.

Clarke swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat at the implications that flooded her. She pocketed her phone and smiled at Lexa, walking over to close the trunk for Lexa – for her own sanity – and then nudged Lexa's shoulder with hers.

"Let's go get us some of those divine mashed potatoes then."

* * *

It was yet another late shift, a cross between Tuesday and Wednesday, and Clarke was all kinds of tired. Her sneakers squealed to a halt when her pager beeped and she hung her head back, groaning to the ceiling and attracting more than just a few curious glances from nurses and patients alike. The doctors, however, threw her sympathetic looks.

Yeah, she wished they truly understood her plight. She wished it was as simple as her having been on her feet for a little more than 36 hours, because people kept piling into the ER for some reason today, with no break whatsoever. If only it was _that _simple, she would have been so grateful.

Except it wasn't.

She had been avoiding Raven's place. She hadn't gone out for drinks with her friends for a month now. The Fruit Loops that had been stocked up at her place went untouched, replaced by the subpar Cheerios. She passed by places that served any drinks that resembled orange mush and she would spin around and walk away. She hadn't been able to sleep properly. She couldn't stop thinking about Lexa.

Approximately a month had passed by since Lexa had moved out of Raven's apartment. Clarke could barely count the number of times her finger had hovered over Lexa's contact on her phone and ended up chickening out at the last second. And it was weird, because the only intimate contact they had was _two _years ago, and Lexa had obviously forgotten about that, even she had nearly forgotten about it – so why was she so hung up about a lawyer lady she had only officially known for marginally two weeks?

Yes, Lexa was easy to talk to. The woman had a wicked sense of humor that the doctor suspected not a lot could really understand. She knew so many random facts that she would throw them out throughout the day, and Clarke suddenly found herself inundated with useless knowledge that she treasured. It didn't hurt that Lexa was really easy on the eyes.

But _so what_? Clarke was as sexually active as they came. She met many beautiful people throughout her adult life, and her sex life hadn't exactly been dry since she started having sex. There was no logical reason whatsoever for her to be so hung up about this one woman – so much so that she actually hadn't had sex in more than a month.

That was it. She just needed to get laid. One orgasm and this obsession would be over.

She was just horny, Clarke decided as she pulled the curtain open.

Horny for Lexa, she corrected when she saw the very object of her recent obsession sitting on the bed.

"What…is going on?" she asked, restraining herself from getting too distracted by the display of all the muscles and abs resultant of the shirt that Lexa had tossed aside.

Lexa smiled, laughed, and then winced, one hand reaching up to touch the other shoulder. "We meet again," she said. She cleared her throat and watched as Clarke neared her. "Yeah, I was building a bookshelf I got from IKEA and I fell and I think I dislocated my shoulder and my back is kind of killing me."

The blonde raised her brows. "A bookshelf from IKEA?"

"Work of the devil."

Clarke couldn't help but smile. She motioned for Lexa to turn on the bed slightly and gestured at the hem of her undershirt. "Do you mind if I…?"

"It's nothing you haven't seen before."

Clarke stilled, her fingers hovering over the hem, and she met Lexa's meaningful stare over her shoulder. She pondered the callous statement for a moment and straightened up, reaching out to draw the curtains close and crossing her arms as she looked back at Lexa.

"So you do remember?"

"I wasn't that drunk."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"You didn't seem like you remember."

Clarke wanted to say more, but the intercom announcing something or other reminded her that she was at her workplace and Lexa was a patient. Horniness and questions and the sizzling sparks hanging in the air between them aside, Clarke was here for a reason. She cleared her throat and approached Lexa again, lifting the hem of her undershirt to take a look at her back. She stayed quiet as she moved on to check on the brunette's affected shoulder, twisting and feeling and absolutely _unaffected _by the expanse of skin she was touching.

"You're in luck. It's not dislocated. Just heavily bruised," she announced. "I'll prescribe you painkillers for three days and a cream to get rid of the bruising. Apply it twice a day." She grabbed the chart at the foot of the bed and started scribbling her observations.

"Clarke –"

The blonde tossed the chart on the bed and reached out to grab behind Lexa's neck, careful to not jostle her shoulder, and pulled the brunette forwards to kiss her. It may have been two years, and they may not have known each other for as long as Clarke would have liked, but she was certain of one thing: she had never felt like this about anyone before.

This kiss just reminded her of all that she had missed over the past two years just because she had been too mind boggled to remember asking for Lexa's number before it was too late. Fourteen months of being deprived of more mind-blowing orgasms and being in the company of the most interesting person Clarke had ever encountered were too long.

Plus, the last month of not seeing or talking to Lexa at all was close to being in hell. Clarke didn't intend for any more accidental separation.

She drew back and smiled a little when Lexa whined a little in complaint. This was beyond unprofessional – she was lucky that the security cameras didn't reach this part of the ER; she'd be screwed big time otherwise.

"You better remember that," she whispered, their noses touching and their mouths hovering only millimeters apart.

Lexa chuckled breathily and Clarke closed her eyes against the musical sound. "Oh, there's going to be so much more of that." She then leaned forward to capture Clarke's lips again, eliciting a barely suppressed moan from the blonde.

Oh yeah, there was no way she was going another day without kissing those lips or seeing those eyes or touching this body. There was no way she was going another day without seeing Lexa Woods smile and do her thing. Not a chance.

* * *

**i am shameless braven shipper don't judge me but anyway whew i don't even know what that was honestly **


End file.
